


I'll Watch Over You

by lottielovebuzz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lottielovebuzz/pseuds/lottielovebuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He hardly gets enough time to do this. Well, never manages to get time to really get into it, to worship and tease himself and make it good. It's normally a quick jerk off in the shower in the morning; trying to come before Sam starts banging on the door for taking so long. </p><p>But now, as he sits in the back of the Impala in a secluded spot where he knew no one was going to find him, he finally has time to do it right."</p><p>Except he isn't as alone as he thinks when a prayer falls from his lips and he doesn't realise the repercussions. Not that he's going to complain about them, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Watch Over You

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [THIS](http://anythinggoestonight.tumblr.com/post/58261947828) gif set

He hardly gets enough time to do this. Well, never manages to get time to really get into it, to worship and tease himself and make it _good_. It's normally a quick jerk off in the shower in the morning; trying to come before Sam starts banging on the door for taking so long. 

But now, as he sits in the back of the Impala in a secluded spot where he knew no one was going to find him, he _finally_ has time to do it right. 

Sammy thinks he's out at a bar, probably thinks he's hooked up with some chick and that's the reason he's not back; that he won't be back. And Dean knows he could just find some girl, but for some reason, that idea doesn't turn him on as much as this does.

He takes his time, his breath is already shallow as a hand runs up his denim clad thigh, his finger dipping into the crease at the top before he runs it along his groin, featherlight but it's still enough to make him sigh and for his head to fall back against the headrest. 

A part of him wants to rid himself of his clothes already and just close his hand around his cock but a part of him wants to draw this out; after all, that's why he's parked in the middle of nowhere; for privacy so this can last. 

So, with this in mind his hand returns to their journey, moving down the other thigh before coming back up again. He runs it over his torso, feeling his stomach muscles clench under his hand, reaches his chest and traces a finger around his nipple, his cotton shirt adding a pleasant scratching sensation. He trails his hand down his sides, before dipping it under his shirt, looking for some skin against skin. 

He hisses, and he's not sure when the Impala got so damn warm, but as his hands roam over his chest, both under his shirt, the sudden desire to be rid of his clothes is stronger than making this long and intense. 

Dean sits up, taking his hands out from under his shirt before he tugs it over his head and throws it carelessly into the driver's seat. His hands go back to teasing himself; he traces the muscles in his stomach, feels them tremble; he traces a hand over the strong muscles of his shoulders, moves his hand up to rub his neck, palm closing around it momentarily and he applies just a small amount of pressure that makes his hips buck. 

He removes his hand from around his neck, and lets it slide down his chest once again, with only one destination in mind. He reaches the top of his jeans and his finger traces the visible skin directly above the waistband. With a shaky exhale, he pops the button and catches the zip between his finger and thumb, before pulling it down, the noise a contrast to the shallow breaths coming from Dean. 

As soon as he can, he tugs his jeans and boxers down, but the position he's in means they pool around his knees and he can't get them any lower, but it doesn't matter much to Dean anyway. His hands find his thighs again, settling just on either side of his erection, that was now resting against his stomach. 

With another deep exhale that's unstable and shaky, his hands slowly slide inwards, towards his centre and when they finally wrap around the base of his cock, his eyes flutter shut. He doesn't move for a few seconds, trying to control himself but it doesn't work as well as he'd hope. 

One hand slides down to cup his balls as his other starts to lazily move. Slow, loose movements that makes his breathing stutter but not enough to make his toe curls just yet. 

As his mind starts to drift, swimming with lust and pleasure, his usual fantasy comes running into his mind and his hips jerk into his fist as he pictures it. 

' _Cas_ ,' his name falls unbidden from Dean's lips, but he's too far gone to care. The image of Cas' plump lips wrapped around his cock is clouding his mind, taking control until it's all he can see, and he doesn't seem to realise just what his murmur would do. 

He twists his fist as it reaches the head of his cock and he rubs his thumb over the slit that's dripping with precome. His other hand that had been fondling his balls slips lower, and when he traces his finger over his rim, his breath catches in his throat as his eyes clench shut. 

A faint fluttering sound is heard, but Dean doesn't pay it any heed, thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind that it's just the wind. 

His movements are getting frantic now; hips jerking wildly off the leather seat of the Impala, his hand pumping faster; twisting, squeezing, stroking the tip, under the head. 

His eyes finally open and he thinks he's seeing things, thinks it's just his imagination playing tricks on him, so wrapped up in his lust and desire, that he's just picturing Cas is sitting on the seat beside him, eyes dark and flickering between Dean's hand as it strokes his cock and Dean's face, that's contorting as each wave of pleasure trembles through him. 

It takes a moment to realise that this _isn't_ imagination, and the thing that seals Dean's thoughts is when Cas suddenly reaches across and presses his lips to Dean's. 

A breathless moan fights its way free from Dean's lips and despite that the freaking Angel he imagines sucking his cock; the Angel that pulled him from Hell, is sitting in his backseat, watching him jerk off, another shudder runs through Dean's body. 

Cas pulls away from him, sitting back slightly to watch Dean thrust his cock into his fist; watch his breathing get deeper and deeper and his head suddenly jerks back, his slamming shut as his toes curl. But Dean forces himself to open his eyes and they find his cock, slows down the pace just slightly, but adds pressure and it's not long until he's coming in white streaks over his chest, with a stuttering shallow breath. 

He lazily continues to stroke himself, just enough to keep sparks exploding through his body as his free hand comes up and his thumb dips into his come, trailing it up his chest to circle his nipple before he brings his thumb to his mouth. He plunges it in as his eyes find Castiel's again, and it tastes salty and earthy like it normally does, but the look on Cas' face is worth it; the slack-jaw, blown pupils and faint blush on his cheeks. 

Dean slips his thumb from his mouth and picks up some more of his come, and extends it to Cas. 

'Want some?' He asks, his voice deeper and rawer than normal, and he's almost positive Cas will say no, because he's sure the very idea of sex terrifies the Angel, so, he's surprised when Cas grabs Dean's wrist in a death grip and tugs it towards his mouth, enveloping his thumb and letting his tongue lap at the sticky substances on Dean's thumb. 

Dean's breathing has no chance of returning to normal, for Cas hollows his cheeks and sucks, and holy fucking God. Dean's image from earlier, of seeing those gorgeous lips of his wrapped around his cock suddenly comes hurtling back into his mind, because if that's what he's doing to his thumb… 

A groan escapes from Dean's mouth and Castiel's eyes find his and he finally releases Dean's thumb from his mouth. Dean snakes his hand around the back of Cas' neck and pulls him forward, crushing their lips together and he's not sure what's changed in the Angel, but he's greedy and demanding, his tongue immediately teasing Dean's, his hands creating a vice on Dean's hips. 

Dean's free hand reaches down between them, finding Cas' hard cock between them and he palms him through the material of Cas' pants. 

Cas whimpers into his mouth, but doesn't stop pressing his lips against Dean, determined to keep kissing him until he's stole all of Dean's breath. 

Dean's fingers work quickly and efficiently, popping the buttons open and dragging the zip down, and he manages to push the material of his pants and boxers down over his hips, just enough so that he can get to his erection without a lot of trouble. 

His hands closes around it, warm and hard and he doesn't go gentle or slow like he did with himself at first. He works hard and fast, twisting his wrist and applying different pressure, anything to get Cas off as quick as possible, because he wants to see him come undone. 

Dean opens his eyes and watches Cas; his eyes shut and his mouth open, just holding it against Dean, sharing his breath and they're no longer kissing but damn, Dean doesn't give a fuck anymore.

'Holy shit.' Dean mutters and if possible, his movements get more frantic. His thumb brushes over the slit at the head and Cas' hips rock into his thigh, looking for more friction and feeling, and Dean wishes that they weren't awkwardly in the back of the Impala now, because he wants more than anything to take Cas into his mouth. 

But he can't right now, so instead he just continues to stroke until he feels something warm hit his stomach, and when Cas collapses against him, his head tucking into the side of his neck, Dean wraps his arms around him and hold him, his fingers carding through his hair. 

Dean knows Cas has recovered slightly when he feels his lips press kisses to the side of his neck, and he chuckles and Cas can _feel_ it against his tongue.

He gives Cas' hair a tug and pulls his head up so he can meet his eyes. 

'Y'know, if I knew you were up for it, I would've moaned your name sooner.' 

And he manages to keep his face straight until Cas rolls his eyes and presses another kiss to his lips to shut him up and swallow up his laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


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